She was giving herself excuses to kill Eric Colby. He was helpless, down for the count.
And she was not a murderer. She wouldn’t let him make her into the same monster he had become. She’d climb the nearest ridge and hope for cell reception there. If that didn’t work, she’d take Agent Byers’s car to the nearest town.
It would be okay. The evidence against Colby was overwhelming. They’d put him away and send him to death row. Eric Colby would never hurt anyone again.
But she still couldn’t let go of that rock. She gripped it tighter.
Just three or four more blows …
She craned her neck, trying to breathe air that wasn’t infected by that awful stench of death.
She staggered backward and scrambled up the side of the gully.
Three or four more blows …
She climbed the ridge and reached for her phone.
And only then did she let the stone fall from her fingers.
San Quentin State Penitentiary
Interrogation Room A
Present Day
KENDRA SAT BEHIND THE INTERROGATION room’s one-way glass, still overcome by the sights, sounds, and smells of that horrible night. She had glanced at Colby at his trial only long enough to point him out for the jury. Otherwise, she hadn’t seen him since their confrontation in Coachella Valley.
And she didn’t want to see him now, especially after seeing the sick shrine he had erected to her in his cell. Even Griffin thought it best that she stay in the closet-sized observation room with Reade and Metcalf while he and Lynch spoke to Colby.
The interrogation room was empty, pending Colby’s arrival. It looked remarkably similar to every police interrogation room in every medium-to-large city in the country. Except for the bolted-down prisoner’s chair, complete with steel eyeholes for leg and wrist restraints.
Where was he? The warden had said he’d have him here right away.
The rear door finally swung open, and Eric Colby walked into the room.
He looked precisely as Kendra remembered him. Jet-black hair, high cheekbones, pale skin, and the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. His lips were almost always pursed, and only when he spoke did he reveal his straight, tiny, rodentlike teeth. She’d always thought the effect was downright bizarre, almost as if they belonged in someone else’s mouth.
He sat down, but the guards didn’t secure him to the chair. After a moment, Lynch and Griffin entered the room and sat across from him.
One of the guards held up a pair of handcuffs. “Are you sure you don’t want us to use these?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Griffin said. He raised his eyebrows at Colby. “Will it?”
“Not unless you want to wear them.” Colby’s tone was bitterly ironic, almost as if he was telling a joke only he understood. “And what brings you here, Mr. Special Agent in Charge Griffin?”
“No need to be so formal,” Lynch said. “Just call him Special Agent.”
Colby’s gaze shifted to Lynch. “And what do I call you?”
“Sir. Mister. Hey you. I answer to pretty much everything.”
Colby nodded. “So what brings you here, Special Agent Hey You?”
Griffin leaned toward him. “Your DNA was found at a crime scene in the past week.”
Colby raised an eyebrow. “Is that a fact?”
“Yes. We thought maybe you could tell us something about it.”
“I’m a little busy right now. Come back and ask me about it next week. You might find the conversation a little one-sided, though.”
“We’ll ask you about it now.”
Colby shrugged. “Ask.”
“Your DNA was found at the home of Corrine Harvey in San Diego. She was murdered.”
Colby shook his head. “She’s not one of mine.”
“We know,” Lynch said. “She was murdered last week.”
“Fascinating.”
“Glad you think so,” Lynch said. “You’ve no doubt heard of the copycat serial killer we’ve been chasing.”
“Of course. Someone’s been paying tribute to Kendra Michaels’s rogues gallery. But so far, he’s neglected to include my work. It’s very hurtful, you know. I don’t appreciate your rubbing my nose in it.”
Lynch studied him for a long moment. “Oh, but I think it is your work. At least partially.”
“Really? I’m flattered. But in case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been a wee bit … indisposed, of late.”
“You’re the architect. Someone else is working from your designs.”
“Now that would be interesting.” Colby leaned back and clasped his hands behind his head. “Tell me more.”
“Interesting?” Griffin tried to hide his disgust. He didn’t succeed. “Taking human lives is interesting?”